Tell Me
by Kyo-chan
Summary: After a family dinner with the Hughes', Elysia decides she wants a different sort of bedtime story, and only Uncle Roy can tell it right.


Dinner had been spectacular, as usual. As someone who really didn't cook much for himself, he really appreciated the ritual of going to visit Gracia and Elysia once a month for dinner. He always brought something for his goddaughter, and usually helped out her mother in the kitchen if there was still something to do when he arrived. Tonight, he and Elysia set the table together, counting out the forks and knives and spoons that went with each plate. She always asked as Roy poured a glass of wine for himself and Gracia if she could have some too and the answer was always no, but he'd remembered to stop and pick up sparkling grape juice for her so they could all share the treat together. This week at the office had been a difficult one; two hard cases and a civil affair in the south, which was still one of his biggest problems as Brigadier General. No matter how often they sent peaceful representatives to Aerugo, it was like their talks fell on deaf ears. There were still border conflicts that somehow ended up being the fault of Amestrians and Roy was getting tired of arguing.

"Why don't you go on and sit down, Roy," Gracia told him, as if she could read the strain in his shoulders and the crease in his brow. She and Elysia had carried the dishes to the kitchen, and he knew from experience she would insist on washing them right then. A clean kitchen makes for a perfect start to the day, she would say, and he let her have her way, though he often helped dry at the very least.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. You look like you could use it."

He gave her a rueful smile. "I'll try not to be so obvious next time."

She brushed him off with a gentle push to his shoulder and disappeared back into the kitchen. Roy sank into the comfortable couch in their sitting room, spreading his arms out to the sides and tipping his head back. His spine made several audible protests to his movements, the stretch burning across his shoulders. His stress had really gathered without him paying attention to it. Eyes fluttering closed, he let himself relax and just not think for a few minutes. That alone was something he was infinitely grateful for, and he would tell Gracia so when she came back from doing the dishes.

"Uncle Roy?"

At first, the soft voice didn't stir him from his doze, but the next time Elysia called his name, it was with the whisper yell of a young child who really wanted the adult to be awake, but whispered because they had been taught it was polite. He blinked, unable to hold back a yawn as he sat up a little. Elysia smiled at him when she saw he had woken up, and she climbed up onto the cushion next to him, smoothing out the skirt of her little dress adorably. It was a move he had seen Gracia do countless times when she settled in her seat, and he felt the corners of his mouth turning upward instinctively.

"Hey you. Shouldn't you be getting ready for bed?"

"I wanted to ask you something," she said with a matter-of-fact nod of her head.

"Anything."

"Uncle Roy, will you tell me about Daddy? I don't like asking Mama because it makes her sad."

It took all Mustang had in him not to let his smile fade. Sometimes, he forgot that she was rapidly growing past the tiny sprout of a thing clinging to her mother's skirts. She was already getting tall, speaking like a well behaved young lady, and most assuredly asking all the questions that came to mind. To say he'd been unprepared for this would have been the understatement of the week. Even while he gathered his thoughts, her green eyes remained fixed on him expectantly, as if she didn't expect that talking about her father would make him sad. How could she know, after all, how close they had been, when Maes had gone before she had the chance to see them together and remember that they were best friends. But she had to know he was a key, why else would he always come to visit them, to bring warmth to the Hughes home, to fill in a void he couldn't possibly be enough of a person to fill.

He took perhaps a moment too long because Elysia scooted closer, folding her hands in her lap and sitting up straight as if he were a teacher who was about to impart a lesson. "Please tell me, Uncle Roy. I'd like to know."

Oh, God. How was he going to do this? "What is it you want to know? I'll do my best, okay?" His chest hurt, the room had become hotter, much too uncomfortable for his wool sweater, but he could endure this. If he could survive the heat of an Ishvalan desert in a wildfire, he could manage the pressure of a special little girl that was trusting him to bridge a gap she had been too young to understand.

"Anything. What was his favorite color?"

"His…favorite color," he repeated slowly while he quickly racked his brain. Of all the simple things… It wasn't like they had sat around the campfire sharing that, and goodness only knew he wore everything from the most hideous shades to sharp looking monochromes, so his attire wouldn't be any help. Roy felt the weight of her stare, and he swallowed. "His favorite color was the color of your Mama's eyes. He would always talk about them. He would call me up on the phone and tell me all about her and how pretty she was, and how he'd never seen a prettier green in his life."

Elysia's smile made the answer worth it, but holy hell he couldn't breathe. "What about his favorite food?"

"Quiche," he said with a bark of laughter. "Just like your mom's. Did you know, we used to get into fights over quiche?"

"That's silly!" she proclaimed with a giggle.

"It sure was. But when we were in the military together, there was only a certain amount of quiche, and if you didn't get in line fast enough, it was gone like that." He snapped his fingers, and oh how he wished he could so easily combust. It would have been kinder to his heart. No one else had ever asked him so much about Hughes. They either knew him well enough or the didn't know him at all.

"Did you fight a lot?"

"At first, yeah. Sometimes, that's how friends start out. By not getting along at all. But sometimes, you can't help liking someone even if they make you mad sometimes."

"There's someone named Tommy in my class that makes me mad all the time. He pulls my hair and he sometimes says mean things. My teacher says that maybe it's because he's too scared to tell me that he actually likes me."

Roy smiled fondly, wondering if the tightness in the air was obvious just to him. Who was going to scare her first boyfriend away now, put the fear of god into anyone that might court Elysia? Who was going to be the one that told her how pretty she looked for her first school dance, went to see her play an instrument or do some kind of sport in school? Who in the goddamn world was going to walk her down the aisle?

"What else?" The little girl was clearly so excited that someone was telling her about Maes, she could barely sit still. Roy could feel her quivering right next to him. He could understand though. If Gracia was even a fraction worked up from her asking as he was, he could definitely understand. "Mama told me he had a very important job. Was he good at it?"

"The best," Roy answered without hesitation, his voice thick. He was straddling a very dangerous line, so he chose his words carefully. He didn't know how much she remembered from that time in her life, and he wasn't sure he wanted to be the one to find out. Even after all this time, he was just as much of a coward. "Your father, little miss, was really good and reading books and listening to people. He was the best at researching things, you know, like a detective. He did it to help people, because sometimes, things get lost that are harder to find than others." Why had he been so fucking good at finding lost people, guiding them back to where they needed to be? Why had he been so good that it was worth his life. Maybe if he had just been a simple soldier, hid just a fraction of that intelligence, maybe…

"What kinds of things?"

"Elysia, are you pestering your Uncle Roy?"

"No, Mama, I promise!" she said, conjuring the bright and innocent look like a pro. She got that from her father, and all the charisma to back it up.

"She really wasn't." Roy wondered if he was imagining Gracia looking at him a moment too long.

"Even so, it's time for this little lady to get to bed."

"Awww, but Mama…" Elysia looked up at Roy with pleading eyes, as if by not telling her mother what they had been up to, it would mean he would stick up for a later bedtime in her defense.

"You heard her, princess," Roy said, moving his arms from the back of the couch and pulling her into a hug. "But I'll tell you what. Be a good girl and get ready for bed, and I'll come tuck you in before I leave."

Elysia gave a squeal of delight and took off in a heartbeat for her room to get changed. Gracia watched her go with her hands folded on the damp apron in front of her. The woman let out a soft sigh, her shoulders slumping once her daughter was out of sight.

Gracia wouldn't look at Roy. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Roy asked, tilting his head curiously.

"I know she was asking you about Maes. I'm sorry that she asked you because of me. It's not a burden you should carry for me."

"Hey now." Roy was on his feet in a minute, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "I can't look at it like that. She's such a good kid, and she really loves you. She doesn't want to make you sad."

"That doesn't mean she should make you said either, Roy."

"Elysia really isn't what makes either of us sad, and we both know that. Losing him did, and we can't forget that she lost just as much as we did. We're the adults here, and as hard as it is for me to dig that up, even the good memories, she's worth it. And if it takes some of the pain from you, I'll do it. He wouldn't have wanted any of us to be sad for him."

Gracia's breath caught, and she wordlessly started to turn away, but Roy caught her, pulled her against his chest. He didn't say anything, but his embrace was tight, his cheek against her hair.

"Uncle Rooooooy~! I'm ready for you to tuck me in now!"

Roy didn't move, however, not until Gracia finally pulled back, lifting a corner of the apron to dab at her reddened cheeks. "You'd better hold up your promise, Uncle Roy," she said, the words sounding wet, but accompanied by a soft smile.

He looked doubtful, but nodded. "I'll be back."

With another deep breath, he headed down the hall to poke his head into her room. Sure enough, she was flopped onto her bed with the blankets down at the bottom. She kicked her feet playfully in indication that he'd need to cover her as part of tucking her in. He felt at a total loss, and as he grabbed the covers in his shaking hands, he wondered if this was how he was supposed to do it, if this was how he did it. He nestled the blankets around her tiny shoulders…well, they weren't as tiny as they used to be, were they? the time escaped him in his climb through the ranks; he was forgetting some of the important things. Guilt settled in the pit of his stomach, and as he was prone to doing, he smiled to ignore it. Roy was at a loss for what to do next, so he did what he thought he should. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Good night, Elysia. Sweet dreams."

"Uncle Roy?"

He braced himself.

"Thanks for telling me about Daddy. Maybe next time you can tell me another story. They're even better than my bedtime books."

"Maybe next time we will." He reached up and turned off the light by her bedside. Not a moment too soon, because his face was getting wet.

"Love you, Uncle Roy."

"I love you too, Elysia."

He stepped out of the room and shut the door, forgetting himself as he leaned against it to hold him up while he gained his composure.

"I've poured you a drink," Gracia said from the living room. "You don't have to stay if you don't want, but you're welcome to."

"I'm sorry," it was his turn to say as he staggered back to the front room. He tried to think of something else to say as he fell back into the couch, burying his face in his hands. But nothing else came, there was nothing he could say.

Gracia's arms wound around his shoulders as he fell apart.


End file.
